


Sing me a Rainbow (Steal me a Dream)

by WhatAreCatsEven



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Christmas, Christmas Party, F/F, M/M, Mentions of Violence, More characters to come, Petstuck, Sort of? - Freeform, mentions of abuse, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:55:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4574196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatAreCatsEven/pseuds/WhatAreCatsEven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The larger one is obviously female. Clutched tightly in her arms, there’s a smaller bundle. Two nubby horns and whimpers of pain and a lot of worn out rags.<br/>A kid. A little troll kid that looks like a preschooler, still round with baby fat and cartilage. And his... mother? It’s hard to tell under the blood, but she doesn’t even look any older than you. A woman and her kid. Jesus. This is a whole new level of sick.<br/>“Dave.” Rose says, slow and calm and dead like fallen snow. “I need you to call 911. Now.”</p><p>Dave/John. Rose/Kanaya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So um. This was inspired by reading all of Loophole (saccharineSylph) and UFUT (Coldhope) in one go. It's not quite petstuck - I mean it is, but I also wanted to include older trolls in it. Like what happens when they're less cute and get old and are kicked out. Loophole and UFUT did that at the end, but I wanted to expand it a little.  
> For reference, John, Rose, and Jade are university students. Dave DJs for a club.  
> And... I'll stop talking now.

Be DAVE STRIDER.

* * *

‘Tis the night before Christmas, and you’re in the best mood. The absolute best mood, it is yours.

John’s chasing you around with a dweeby little mistletoe hat and you’re pretending to be pissed - “Dude, get the fuck away from me, my lips are a privilege not a right.” Becquerel and Jade are singing off-key tunes from The Nightmare Before Christmas with a whole lot of gusto and not a whole lot of talent, though if it were a contest you’re pretty sure Bec’s got the better voice. Howl. Whatever. Rose is smirking on the couch with a book she intimidated you into giving her a day early, a glass of cinnamon spiced eggnog on the table next to her.

It’s a pretty sweet party, if you do say so yourself.

“Alright. Don’t have too much fun without me, but I think Bec and I are tired.” Jade says after a stirring rendition of This is Halloween. Which is a completely appropriate seasonal note to end on, thank you. “Goodnight all! I’ll be back tomorrow for presents and stuff.”

“See you!” John calls.

“Feed your crazy mutt before he eats someone.”

“Goodnight.”

Jade leaves for her apartment, and that’s about when John ‘I can’t taste the brandy in this at all!’ Egbert discovers that he’s has been hitting the ‘nog a little too hard. He somehow manages to yawn drunkenly, and it’s the most adorable thing you’ve seen all night. “I think I need sleep too.” He says, rubbing his eyes.

“C’mon dude. I’ll tuck you in.” You reply. It’s nearly midnight, after all. Past little Egbert’s bedtime.

John stagger-stumbles to the room you two share, and collapses into bed with a groan.

“You gonna change into your nerd jammies?” You ask. John’s PJs are literally covered in a bewildering variety of Nic Cage memes. He had them custom ordered off the internet, and you kind of want a matching pair. It would be a nice gift for you both. Shame there aren’t any upcoming holidays with a loot theme...

Heh.

“Nope.” He murmurs, snuggling into the pillow.

“Alright. I’ll be back in a bit. ‘Night.”

“Goodnight kiss.” John says, rolling over to give you kicked puppy eyes.

“Dude, are you five?”

“Goodnight kiss with tongue.” He mumbles, with all the seriousness of the seriously inebriated.

“...Okay then. Apparently not.” You lean in - holy shit he wasn’t kidding - say goodnight again, and stumble out. You’re not too steady either - that was a lot of brandy you put in the eggnog - but you’re better off than Egbert.

As usual, in these midnight hours, it’s just you and Rose.

“‘Sup, sis.”

“Hello, David.” She murmurs. Turns another page. Apparently the book was a good buy, because she’s already like a hundred pages in.

“It’s officially Christmas.”

“So it is.” Her eyes dance. “Does this mean we can open presents?”

Rose has all the self control of a preschooler when it comes to holidays. And given how Rose is 99% of the time, it never ceases to amaze you. You’re about to tell her off when there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it.” You say. Rose puts down her book and follows you, curious about who the hell could be at your door at twelve oh two in the fucking morning on Christmas. You’re expecting some drunk, lost carolers, or possibly a strippergram with the wrong address. You grab the knob. Twist. The door falls open, and a body falls with it.

 

* * *

 

You flicker from incomprehension to shock to horror, a broken kaleidoscope of emotions that leave you frozen and stiff.

It’s a body. Holy fuck. Not even a human body. A _troll_. You can hear it breathing, ragged and wet and barely there at all.

What isn’t covered in slashed up rags is soaked with blood. The fresh stuff is the color of old jade and crushed emeralds, though where it’s dried it’s become the same color as the leftover water when you boil spinach. And here and there, there’s more blood, a brilliant Kool-Aid red. Almost like human blood, but just a shade too bright.

Your breath is coming stutter-stop, hummingbird fast and you couldn’t speak if you wanted to. Rose is saying something, trying to talk to you, but there’s a ringing in your ears and it turns her words into so much gibberish. You feel woozy and sick and you’re pretty sure you’re gonna faint which is the absolute _last_ thing you need to be doing -

You briefly register a blur of motion, and suddenly your cheek is on fire. She hit you - Rose hit you so hard that you feel sure she dislocated your jaw.

_“Snap out of it and go get John!”_

You stumble off to obey. A minute later, John’s rubbing sleep out of his eyes and hurrying out of bed. He’s a pre-med student, he’ll know what to do. In the meantime, Rose has gotten the body flipped, and that’s when you realize it isn’t one body, it’s two. Both still breathing. Thank god.

The larger one is obviously female. Clutched tightly in her arms, there’s a teeny tiny little bundle. Two nubby horns and whimpers of pain and a lot of worn out rags.

A kid. A little troll kid that looks like a preschooler, still round with baby fat and cartilage. And his... mother? It’s hard to tell under the blood, but she doesn’t even look any older than you. A woman and her kid. Jesus. This is a whole new level of sick.

“Dave.” Rose says, slow and calm and dead like fallen snow. “I need you to call 911. Now.” You’ve never understood how she does it. Your sister shuts down and gets shit done when there’s a crisis. You... have always been useless.

You pull your cell out of your pocket. Dial. Someone - female, Northerner, WASP sounding - picks up.

“There’s a troll here. Two trolls.” You stammer. “They’re hurt. It’s bad.”

“Trolls can be very dangerous, sir. Are you safe inside your home? Make sure all the doors and windows are locked.” The woman says, her voice filled with maternal care. “Would you like me to get you in touch with the police department so they can  move the trolls to a holding cell?”

“No, you sick lunatic! I want to get the damn trolls an ambulance!”

“We don’t send ambulances for trolls. And you don’t take that tone with me.” She says, all petulant and annoyed. “I’m hanging up.”

_“The fuck are you -”_

Dial tone. Fucking shit fuck, who the hell do you call?  No idea. You have no clue. Awful as it is, you dial 911 again. John and Rose are moving the trolls - Rose has got the big one all by herself. They’re moving to the spare bedroom.

You think you’re going to be sick.

“911 please state your emergency.” It’s a different dispatcher - thank god.

“We’ve got two hurt trolls here -”

“Oh geez.” The guy says tiredly. “Buddy, I can’t help you here. 911 isn’t allowed to answer any troll related calls unless it’s to arrest them or whatever. There’s a doc I know who coulda helped you, but he’s off on vacation or something.”

“There’s... is there anything I can do, then? Some kinda hotline or something?”

“Sorry, buddy. Not around Christmas. They’re all nonprofits, and none of them have enough money to cover the whole day, let alone a holiday. The best you can do is look up some first aid stuff, and do your best.” He sighs. “Trust me buddy, I’ve been there.”

“I...”

“Gotta clear the line. Best of luck. You probably wanna check out the pets section of Web MD. Lotta people have baby trolls, there’s some good stuff posted there.”

Dial tone before you can reply. So 911 isn’t going to help. Great. You run for the spare bedroom. John and Rose are bent over the trolls - it looks like John has the first aid kit out, and there aren’t anywhere near enough bandages.

“I need long, thin strips of cloth and I need them boiled.” He says, shaky but collected. It makes you feel like a useless piece of shit. You go to the kitchenette, put a pot on, and start slicing up some old rags with a rusty pair of scissors. You slice your shirt up too, because you can’t find anything else convenient to destroy. When you’ve filled the pot up with strips, you google for troll doctors within a few miles and wait for it to boil.

No results. Fuck. The closest one of over twenty miles away, and closed for the holidays. Just like the guy said.

You have no idea what the hell you’re doing.

The next hour is a mess of bandages and blood and ruined sheets. You give John the dispatcher's advice, and Rose reads stuff off the internet to him while he works. It looks like the little one is going to live. John isn’t sure about the girl. Woman. He’s bandaged the shallow cuts and stitched the deeper ones, but she’s lost a lot of blood, so much that she looks like a horror movie victim. If she wasn’t a troll, she’d have been dead three times over. The kid too.

Jesus. You’ve been to rallies for this, and shit - you’re nineteen years old, it’s kind of your place in the world to be up in arms about something. You’ve probably got a snarky t-shirt or two on troll rights and stuff. But... This is a lot bigger than your teenage self righteousness. Hell. You really are a fuckup, aren’t you.

“Rose. I’m leaving her to you.” John says after half an hour of frenzied care. “I can’t... I wish I hadn’t...” He’s running on fear and panic and pure adrenaline, but you’ve all been up for almost twenty hours and John’s drunk off his ass. You’re amazed he managed to do the stitches. He’s _amazing_ , and you were fucking useless.

Rose just nods. “John, I can take care of this. You told me everything to watch for. Take the child to you and Dave’s room and get some rest.” John knows that tone, by now. Arguing with her in the mood is about like arguing with gravity, especially when she’s right.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“You too, David.”

You don’t reply. John’s swaying on his feet, so you pluck the little troll from his arms. The little guy is warmer than you expected, and heavy like a bowling ball. Solid. It’s reassuring, somehow. Like he’s just too damn heavy, too _there_ , to just die on you. Or at least, you hope he is.

“What are we going to do?” You ask.

Rose sighs. “I don’t know.” She says, quietly. “If they’re from a troll community, hopefully someone will come looking. And if not, we continue to care for them.”

“We can work out a schedule so someone’s at the house all the time.” John puts in. “Most of my classes are in the morning, and Rose’s are at night, and your DJ gig is usually pretty late. We’ll work something out. Besides, school doesn’t start back up for us for another week.”

You almost choke up at that. Neither of them even question what they’re gonna do.

“Guess we’ve got a few strays then.” You mumble. Then you look down at the little troll in your arms. It strikes you how many fucking bandages he’s got on him. Kind of reminds you of a voodoo doll Rose had a while ago that she kind of went nuts on. Like a little broken toy.

You want to break something right back with a passion so fierce that it makes you choke.

“Let’s take the little guy to bed, John.”

Rose goes to get her book again, and you and John head to your room. You crawl under the sheets a little awkwardly - Dave spoons you, and you clutch the little troll close to your chest, avoiding the nastiest gashes.

“Trolls heal fast.” John murmurs quietly. “He’ll be okay.”

“I hope so.” You whisper back. “His... fuck. I dunno. Mom or something though. She looked...”

John doesn’t say anything back, just pulls you a little tighter.


	2. Still Breathing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. Going a little bit out of the sad zone. Please enjoy, and thank lady_of_space and her comment strings for this chapter. That was what motivated me to write it.

Your name is JOHN EGBERT and you have the sweetest boyfriend. Seriously.

It's about ten in the afternoon and it kinda feels like an army of gnomes are trying to claw their way out of your skull. Literally. Your head is killing you. But you take a moment before getting up, because Dave is seriously cute. He's all wrapped around the little troll like a cocoon, using the little guy's a teddy bear. You fumble for your phone, still in your pocket, and snap a quick photo. That's one for the scrapbook. Then you sigh and roll out of bed. There's stuff to be done, like groceries and medicine. Dave can sleep a little longer.

You almost leave the room without kissing his forehead. That would have been just terrible.

* * *

Your name is DAVE STRIDER and something is screaming.

Your first thought is fire alarm, your second is motherfucking banshee bullshit, and your third is that it's basically right in your ear.

Then that something bites you.

"Fuck!" You swear, springing out of bed. There's literally blood dripping down your hand, three or four needle like puncture marks on the top and bottom of your palm. The little troll is sitting up and continuing to scream, pausing to breathe and hiss at you.

"Fuck!" It chirps at you back. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!" The kid has a little high pitched baby voice, all soft and grouchy and piercing.

"Little dude, that's not something you should be saying." You sigh, scratching your head and staring at your bleeding hand. "Shit. I'm corrupting a midget troll." You also notice John's gone - he said something about groceries and restocking the first aid stuff last night. He's probly already up and out of the house, like a total lunatic. Which leaves you to deal with a crazy preschool troll.

"Shit fuck!" The troll yells at you. "You're a human shit fuck!"

"Oh my god. This is hell."

"Shit fuck!"

You hold your hands up in what you hope is a nonthreatening way. "Okay, dude? Chill out for a second."

"No! Go away, you shit fuck!"

"Yeah. Shit fuck." You sigh. "I'm leaving, I'm leaving."

"Yeah! Go away, shit fuck!"

You sleepily head for the guest room, verify that Rose and the adult troll are out of it, and close the door. No need for the tiny wonder to wake them up. Then you head for the kitchenette, open the fridge, and start rooting around for some breakfast.

There's a pitter-patter of little feet behind you. Well, whaddaya know. Little guy followed you. "Where's Kanaya?" The little troll says.

"You mean the big green troll?"

"Yes, you shit fuck." Those words should not be coming out in that little kid voice. Jesus. You're going to hell.

"She's sleeping dude. Want some food?"

"Yes. Imma growing troll. I've gotta have food. You shit fuck." The troll pauses. "If you feed me, maybe you are not a shit fuck."

"Gotcha. You like bacon?"

"Yes."

"Awesome. Bacon it is. Want eggs too?"

"No. Eggs are gross. Just bacon." He pauses. "Can I have a drink?"

"We've got... orange juice, Doctor Pepper, and milk."

"Doctor Pepper, shit fuck."

"Does... uh... Kanaya let you have Doctor Pepper?"

"...Yes."

The pan's plenty hot, so you toss in a few strips of bacon and listen to it sizzle. "That doesn't sound true."

"Is so."

"I bet it isn't."

"Is so, you shit fuck." Then the troll pauses. "You bleeding. Don't bleed on the bacon. S' my bacon. I don't want bloody bacon."

"Oh. Jeez. Forgot. Thanks little dude."

You find some bandages while the bacon cooks, and stick them over the marks. Then you grab a plate, and scrape off four crispy strips on it. You offer it to the troll.

"You want it?"

The troll scampers over, grabs the plate like you'll take it back if he isn't fast enough, and jams his face into it. Bacon goes everywhere.

"Dude! At least use your fingers!"

He glares up at you after a few seconds, grease smeared on his chin. "More!" And, shit, he really did eat it up. You sigh. Start more.

"So, how're you feeling."

"Bad. I got lotsa ouchies." He looks down at himself, notes the cuts and scrapes. "Not too bad."

Dude is a trooper, you'll give him that. Just looking at him is enough to make you wince. "Can you tell me how you got them?"

"There was a bad human." He pauses, bites his little gray lip. "I had to go with Kanaya to work. And a bad person got mad at me and tried to hurt me. So me and Kanaya ran away except Kanaya hit him really hard first." His little lip starts to tremble. "Where is she? Is she okay? I wanna see Kanaya!"

"Okay. Okay! C'mere. You can see Kanaya." You lead him over to the guest room before he bursts into tears, and let him peek in.

"She's sleeping, okay?"

"Who's that?" The little guy says, pointing at the other person in the room.

"That's my sister, Rose."

"Whassa sister?"

"It means we have the same parents. Isn't Kanaya your parent?"

"No. Don't got human parents. Kanaya just takes care of me." He pauses. "I wanna wake her up! Wake her up, shit fuck."

"First off, my name is Dave. Second, she needs to sleep, okay? She got hurt very badly and people who got hurt need to sleep."

"Kanaya's hurt?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'll stay here, n' protect Kanaya. I'm fierce!"

"You need to eat more bacon. Kanaya's fine here. In fact, you know my sister? Sleeping right there?" You stare at the little troll very seriously, trying not to laugh. He looks... fragile. But cute. Incredibly, incredibly cute. "She's a very scary person. She takes these classes on how to beat people up. So if there are any bad people, she can beat them up. Okay?"

"...Promise she's very good at it?"

"Pinky swear, dude."

"'Kay. Then I want more bacon."

The two of you head back to the kitchen. And something smells...

Crap.

"Stupid shit fuck! There was already bacon in there and you burned it!"

"Yeah." You sigh. "Very stupid shit fuck."

* * *

You eat a total of twenty pieces of bacon between you, and most of it is the little guy. There may also have been Doctor Pepper involved. You're wracking your brain for stuff to do with a kid, until he peers over at the TV on the far wall.

"That a TV?" He asks quietly.

"Yep. Wanna watch?"

"I don't have a TV with Kanaya. What's on it?"

The way he says it, all soft and uncertain, makes something in you twinge.

"All sorts of stuff. C'mon. Let's look."

You get the movies spread on the floor, and the little troll is looking through them, when your phone rings.

"Gah. Uh, pick something that looks good, okay? I need to take this." You pull it out of your pocket and fumble with the screen, stepping over to the kitchenette. "'Sup?"

"Hey Dave!" Jade chirps. "Is everyone up for presents?"

Oh god. She doesn't know.

"Oh shit. Uh." You look over at the troll, still sifting through your movies on his hands and knees. "Look, do me a favor?"

"Alright. What's going on?"

"I'll explain when you get here. Pick up some presents that would be good for like... a six year old. I'll pay you back."

"There's a Toys R Us close by... what happened?"

"We kinda picked up a couple of trolls."

"...You'd better explain in person. I can be there in an hour."

"See you."

The little dude turns around, Nightmare Before Christmas in his pudgy little hands. "This one! It's got skeletons."

"So it does, little man. So it does."

* * *

Jade and Bec get there right as Poor Jack is wrapping up. You hear the door open, and pause the movie.

"Why'd you stop?" The little guy asks.

"My friend's here. She's very nice." You reply.

"Oh my god!" And there's Jade. Becquerel huffs and walks forward sniffing all around Karkat while Jade points. "It's a troll! Dave! A tiny one! Oh my god he's so cute and are those bandages?"

"Yes to all." You reply. "You might wanna get your dog off him before he bites it."

"M' not gonna bite the dog! I like dogs." He huffs. "Does dog have a name?"

"His name's Becquerel." Jade says, kneeling down beside him and stroking Bec. "What's your name?"

"M' Karkat. Hi. What's your name?" You abruptly realize you've spent the last two hours thinking of him as 'little dude.' Oops.

"I'm Jade. Nice to meet you Karkat." Her eyes twinkle, and she hooks a thumb at you. "What's his name?"

"He says Dave, but it's really shit fuck." 

* * *

After about fifteen minutes of Harley chewing you out in the other room, then chewing Karkat out, you're both terrified enough that the words 'shit fuck' will be out of your vocabulary for the rest of her visit. Actually, you're gonna abstain from swearing altogether. And possibly join the clergy.

"Alright!" Jade says, clapping her hands together. "Now that that's out of the way, do you guys want to finish the movie?"

"Yeah! Skellington Jack was singing!" Karkat cheers. "Turn it back, s-" He looks at Jade and gulps. "Mr. Dave."

Becquerel barks, and you flick it back on.

* * *

You get all the way through Nightmare Before Christmas and How the Grinch Stole Christmas before there's a loud thump against the door.

"Jade, could you let John in? He's probably being stubborn again."

She rolls her eyes and gets up. "When will he learn to just set some stuff down to open the door?"

"Never. Literally never."

"Who's John?" Karkat demands.

"My boyfriend." You tell him. "He fixed up your cuts and stuff when you were hurt. He's trying to learn to be a doctor."

"Is he nice like Jade?"

"Very nice kid. Just as nice as Jade."

John bursts in the door - he never just enters, he always bursts - with about three armloads of groceries and a big, doofy smile. "He's awake!"

"Yep. Say hi, Karkat." You drawl.

"Hi." Karkat says, snippy and grouchy. "Go away. Don't wanna meet more people."

"Oh, c'mon!" John says, setting the stuff down. "I want to meet you!" He pulls something out of the bag. "Candy grub if you'll let me look at your cuts, at least?" Oh god. It looks like a giant caterpillar. Well, at least the munchkin looks excited.

"Candy grub!" Karkat says, leaping off the couch. He pauses. "With chocolate?"

"Yep."

"Okay."

Karkat munches on a disgusting, caterpillar looking thing while John looks all around him, gently brushing various bandages. When Karkat growls at him, he nods to himself and keeps going. You and Jade and Bec watch bemusedly. It's almost cartoonish to watch, John hopping around like a headless chicken to peer at this and that and Karkat scowling with a bug in his mouth.

"Alright! You're looking good, Karkat!" John says at last. "I just need to do a couple more things. Some of those cuts need some extra help."

"Do I hafta?" Karkat grumbles.

"Yes, Karkat. Go with John. He wants you to get better." Jade says sternly.

"...Fine." He grumbles. "For ten minute."

"Ten minutes is plenty." John says, hustling him towards another room. You and Jade go back to the couch.

"I got some presents." Jade says quietly. "Do you remember how he was looking at those movies? I'm not even sure the poor kid knows what Christmas is."

"I guess it's a troll thing." You reply.

"Yeah... I guess. Still. Do you think it'll be fun for him?"

"He's basically amazed we have a TV. I think he'll go nuts."

Jade smiles softly. "Cool."

"Very cool. But... you heard about the other one."

"Tell me? I haven't seen her around."

"Karkat was only hurt a bit." Your jaw clenches. "Which is fucking sick. But this other troll... apparently she takes care of him. She was seriously..." You sigh. "John doesn't know if she's going to even live."

"Oh my god." Jade breathes. "Why haven't you taken them to a hospital?"

"None of the ones around here help trolls."

She sniffs. "This sucks. He's so..."

"Yeah."

"I hope he likes the stuff I bought him."

"I'm sure he will."

"Oh god Dave..."

"Shh. C'mon, don't cry. He's gonna be back any second."

"Okay. I'm okay." She pauses, wipes her eyes. "So, is that why Rose hasn't been out?"

"Yeah. She's asleep in the guest room with the big one. Pretty sure we couldn't move her with a crane."

"That's good."

"So. Wanna explain the true meaning of Christmas to a heathen?"

"Dave! That's discriminatory."

"I'm not sure he's gonna care, since the meaning is 'loot.'"

* * *

Karkat comes out all antisepticed and rebandaged a few minutes later.

"Hey. So, uh..." You start. Clear your throat. "You know what Christmas is, right?"

"No." Karkat says. "Is it the thing in the movies? Everybody was talking about it."

"Yeah. Basically, you give people presents."

"Everybody?"

"Yep. You want a present?"

"Yeah..." He pauses. "Everyone really gets presents?"

"Yep."

"What 'bout Kanaya's present?"

"Uh..." Suddenly john comes out of the guest room and tugs your arm. 

"Dave, can I talk to you? Jade can tell him that Kanaya will get presents whenever she wakes up." He pauses. "Oops. Or I will."

"Yeah, sure. Back in a sec."

You step into your room. John's got a worried frown etched onto his face. "The woman in the other room? I did some research. She's running a pretty high fever. It varies by blood color but..." He coughs. "Pretty sure she's a jadeblood. Which means she's about five degrees above where she should be."

You wince. "That's bad, isn't it."

"Something got infected. Probably a lot of somethings. I'm going to work on cleaning up the rest of the blood and see what I can see." His face is tired, worried. "I'm not a doctor. I'm not even a people doctor. Just..." He rubs his eyes. "I don't know what I'm doing."

You give him an awkward hug. "Hey now. You're doing the best you can. We just need to hold out until somewhere opens back up that can take her."

He sighs and it sounds like giving up. "That's in almost a week, Dave. She's going to make it now or not at all."

"Guess she's gonna have to make it then."

"Okay." He says. Then again, a note of steel in his voice. "Okay."

* * *

Apparently the only way to get Karkat to not freak out was to let him at his gifts. The kid's a pretty slick negotiator, and already has a Star Wars Lego set, a foam sword, and a bright red cape with a velcro clasp. He's wearing the cape, and it looks cute as hell.

"Look at me! Imma superhero!" Karkat squeals. He's... basically overjoyed. Literally bouncing, this wide, goofy grin you're absolutely delighted to see on him.

"You look great!" John says, laughing. "Jade, these are awesome."

"Jade gottem for me?" Karkat says. "Thank you Jade! Bec and I are gonna fight now. Bec's evil."

They go off, Karkat swinging the foam sword wildly and Becquerel bounding around excitedly, butting at Karkat and jumping around.

"Well. Guess it's our turn." You drawl. 

"I call dibs on first!" Jade and John shout at the same time. Then look at eachother guiltily.

"Do you think we ought to wake Rose up?" Jade asks.

"Nah. Let her rest. She was probly up all night."

Meanwhile, John has stolen the first present. "I win!" He yells. "Oh, from Dave. Let's see..."

* * *

You've been convinced to wear the Nic Cage PJs, and even Karkat is making fun of you. It's about six - Karkat's yawning every now and then and claiming he isn't tired after every one, whether or not someone asks.

"I've got to head out." Jade says. "I'm meeting my grandpa for some stuff at the apartment."

"Alright. See you soon!"

"Yeah! See you soon, Jade! Thanks!"

"See you."

Karkat lets loose a massive yawn as Jade closes the door. "M' not tired."

"Sure you aren't." John says seriously. "But I am. I think I'm going to go lie in bed. Isn't that a good idea, Dave?"

"Dude, it's only six -" He elbows you. "Ow! Okay. Yeah. Bed sounds good."

“No, shit fuck, play with me!” Karkat whines. “M’ not tired!”

“Sorry dude. John has spoken.”

“Aww...”

You both crawl into bed, exaggeratedly yawning and fluffing pillows. Karkat hovers around the door.

“Can I sleep with Kanaya and the scary lady?”

“Oh come on!” John says. “Our room is fine. Besides, there’s a monster in the closet that will eat us, unless someone with a big scary sword is sleeping here.”

“That sounds wrong.” You whisper. John shushes you, staring expectantly at Karkat.

“No. I wanna sleep with Kanaya. I haven’t seen her all day and it isn’t fair! Is Christmas! I wanna see Kanaya as a Christmas present!”

“Dude...” 

“I wanna see Kanaya!” Karkat screams, and runs from the room. 

“Shit!” You exclaim, jumping out of bed and chasing after him. He’s halfway to the door when you manage to scoop him up, wriggling and kicking and flailing.

“Put me down! Shit fuck put me down I wanna see her!”

“C’mon. C’mon, ow, calm down and stop fighting.” 

Without anything better to do, you carry him back to you and John’s room. He keeps fighting you all the way, and you and John do your best to calm him down until he finally stops moving and just starts crying.

“She’s never gonna wake up.” He moans quietly. “She’s never gonna wake up and I’m never gonna see her again and it’s all your fault!”

Just then, Rose comes in, violet eyes almost glowing in the entryway.

“He can check on her.” She says quietly, her deep, throaty voice soft.

“Is that okay, John?” You ask. He nods, slowly.

“Should be fine as long as he doesn’t try and wake her up. She’s still healing, and really needs her rest.”

You face Karkat, looking deep into his eyes. “You hear that, little dude?”

He nods. “Extra quiet.”

Rose leads a silent procession through the house, resuming her post by the bed. Karkat crawls up, ignoring the spinach-green stains. He places a tiny, pudgy hand just in front of her mouth.

“Still breathing.” He says seriously, barely even a whisper.

“Yeah.” You murmur. “Still breathing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was a bit longer and felt like it flowed better. Does the writing seem like it improved? I didn't feel like I had to comb through it or fiddle as much, so hopefully it feels more natural.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look. A cliffhanger. Because I'm sociopathic.  
> In other news, the thing that would mean the most to me is comments. I love comments. Love, love, love. Also, please read something happy after this. I mean... it was depressing to write, let alone read.  
> And, last thing, and I'll probly be switching viewpoints. I'm most comfortable writing Dave and Rose, but I may try and do at least short pieces with other characters. Are there any other characters people are particularly missing? I have some ideas for how things may play out, but I haven't though about who would fit with what part... suggestions?
> 
> SINCE THIS HAS BEEN COMMENTED ON LEMME SAY ONE THING. EXPLICIT MATERIAL IS COMING, AND THERE'S ALREADY LIKE MEDICAL DRAMA AND STUFF ON THE FIRST CHAPTER. SO. YEAH. THAT WAS MY REASONING.  
> Why am I typing in all caps this is dumb.


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